Audiobook

It was an accident that I listened to this during PRIDE month but what a fortunate coincidence! I thought this was a book about sea life and didn’t know it was also an exploration of the author’s gender, sexuality, and race.

As a white, cis, straight person, gaining insight to their POV was fascinating and illuminating and the way that they used the behaviors and characteristics of sea creatures to illustrate similarities in humans and their own experience was just amazing.

I can’t say that I enjoyed every second of this book because sometimes learning about gigantic sea worms or is more gross than anything else but overall I’m really glad that I read this and learned so much about the wonders of the ocean and the experience of a person so different from myself.

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How Far the Light Reaches is a unique book, part science and part memoir. The author uses sea creatures' habits as metaphors for personal life experiences. I learned some interesting facts about sea creatures, such as goldfish's growth potential and octopuses' starvation when brooding. Also, there were many tidbits about regeneration, predator/prey relationships, and morphing. The real focus, however, was on this author's ability to be true to self and explain complex feelings and iterations of growth by examining models in the sea. Imbler described sustained abuse at the hands of men by studying and comparing experiences with men to the habits of a predatory sand-striker worm, an ambush predator.

Another vivid comparison was the emotional morphing from family expectations to the life of a lesbian and member of a queer community. Imbler aligns life phases to that of a morphing cuttlefish. The cuttlefish has distinct disguises for different predators. The cuttlefish transformations are triggered by evolution, but the author could not wait for the evolving process to occur; it was essential to purposely morph, wear clothes that defied societal expectations, and convey personal messages about an invisible yet heartfelt internal evolution.

An easy-to-grasp description was that of a sturgeon starting its life in freshwater but mainly living in the sea. This was a great way to show a human metaphorically treading different waters during maturation. A quote from page 101 encapsulates one of the themes of Imbler's book:
"As queer people, we get to choose our families. Vent bacteria, tube worms, and yeti crabs take it one step further. They choose what nourishes them. They turn away from the sun and toward something more elemental, the inner heat and chemistry of Earth."
It was clear that the author found much satisfaction in studying instinct, life cycles, and stages of life. The statement that "metamorphosis in humans doesn't have to be a full-body thing" sums up the human's need to regrow in acceptance of self and others. ( )

Thank you to NetGalley and Little, Brown and Company for the ARC in exchange for my honest review.

I liked the information and stories of different sea creatures intermingled and connected with different stories of Imbler's life. It was a quick read - not too long or too short. ( )

3.5 Stars ( )

This is a remarkable book that manages to combine "memoir with marine biology" as the podcast Science Friday put it (which was the impetus for me to put the book on my reading list). What keeps it from a full five stars for me is the whiplash between the two, but I'll address that in a bit.

The words after the colon in the title are important here: A Life in Ten Sea Creatures. Imbler is a very gifted writer who sets upon the task of creating substantial and meaningful metaphor through ten creatures: the goldfish, the octopus, the sturgeon, the sperm whale, the yeti crab, the sand striker, the butterflyfish, the salp, the cuttlefish, and the immortal jellyfish. Imbler hones in on the characteristics and circumstances of each of these creatures and connects to those as a queer and mixed-race person. Ira Flatow's interview didn't quite prepare me for the level of intimacy that Imbler brings to this book, but I am better for it. The metaphors are not forced, but seem to blossom forth: "They are one of the best-studied jellyfish in the world, and yet no one noticed the moon jelly's power of regeneration until someone gave it time and trust that it might grow into itself." Often, it is the passages focused on the sea creatures where Imbler offers their most potent observations. There are passages that brought me to tears: "But life always finds a place to begin anew, and communities in need will always find one another and invent new ways to glitter, together, in the dark"--some of them hopeful, some of them recognizing the darkness in the depths of identity.

And this is very much a book about identity and taxonomy--biological and social. There are moments where just as you are caught up in either the science or the memoir, however, the prose switches abruptly. This seems like a stylistic choice on Imbler's part, but it didn't work for me, as I felt yanked out of things just as I was connecting to the intimacy of their narratives. I worry that the title and marketing (the Science Friday interview downplays the memoir side) might mean potential readers may miss out if deep sea creatures aren't a ready-made point of interest. Imbler's personal experiences no doubt mirror that of many queer youths, swimming in the murky waters of identity. I hope they know this book is for them, because Imbler's words reach up from the bottom like a kelp forest toward the light, and everyone is better for it. Perhaps if we could all embrace a little bit more of ourselves in the creatures we know and don't yet know, existence might be a bit less fraught. ( )